Second Chance
by ffnaru
Summary: As she takes a stroll down memory lane, Eirika finds herself regretting that she never told him how she felt. And now, she might just get a second chance. —EirikaxLyon; oneshot


Why, _hello _there. I bid you a very warm welcome to my newest writing for the recently released _Fire Emblem—_i.e., FE8. I wrote this little monster as a gift for a good friend of mine, because she is quite the avid Eirika/Lyon fan, and she believes that they need more love in the fandom. (Seriously.)

I suppose I should probably give you a heads up as well: **There is a **_**tad**_** bit of a spoiler near the end.** I figured that even though it's fairly minor, I should give a forewarning. I rather like it when people _aren't_ jumping down my throat, thank you very much.

Hope you enjoy! (If not, my sincerest apologies. I try.)

* * *

She always regrets that she never told him how she felt. Funny, she thought, how things work. She had fought battle after battle, slayed monster after monster, barged head on into danger to save her brother, defeated three of the Imperial Six, stopped the Demon King from engulfing Magvel in eternal darkness—and yet, she didn't have the courage to tell him those three simple words.

Those words could have made a difference in everything. The only comfort—if one could call it a comfort—was that she had kept his final promise. It helped to quell the bitter pain that she felt whenever she thought of him. How could she have been so dense, so blind? To see how much he cared for her, how much he _loved _her, how he wanted nothing but the best for her—

And she, oblivious to it all, writing it off as nothing but the actions of a chivalrous young gentleman and friend. Only then, after it was done, did she see. And by then, it was too late. It was always too late with them. A series of events that took place too few, too far, and too late in between; both of them too shy to admit that perhaps they _had_ felt something more than just a mere camaraderie.

That's how it had started—a simple camaraderie. The three of them: a boy, a girl, her brother; and a flower garden.

* * *

"Is it here?" Ephraim looked up at the large stone edifice that was known as Grado Keep.

Eirika followed her brother's gaze. "I think so," she said, nodding.

Unlike her brother, Eirika was anxious about coming to Grado to study with Emperor Vigarde's son. It wasn't the leaving of her homeland for the summer that worried her, but rather, the imperial prince. Would he be like his father? Vigarde and her father, she knew, were good acquaintances, and the emperor himself was kind enough, but he was a man of few words. She often wondered why he didn't talk more, but would then scold herself for thinking such a thing; it was unbecoming of her.

Ephraim was about to knock on the oak doors when Eirika placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her.

"Is something the matter, Eirika?" he asked, hand still poised in the air. Eirika would have found his pose comical had the situation been different.

"Brother…" she said timidly, meeting his gaze and biting her lip. "I'm nervous."

He raised an eyebrow. "About?"

"Well… About meeting _him_, I suppose."

"'Him?'" Ephraim repeated, confused for a moment before it dawned on him. "Oh. Why?"

"What if… What if he's like his father?" she asked hesitantly, voicing her thoughts. "Emperor Vigarde is kind enough, but—"

Ephraim sighed. "Eirika. I can't say that I understand your concern, but I'm sure there's nothing to be worried about."

Embarrassed, she cast her glance down to the ground. "Well, if you say so…" She mentally scolded herself again for letting herself think such negative thoughts.

"Oh, don't look so down," Ephraim said, stroking her cheek to comfort her like he did when they were younger. "It will be fine. You'll see."

Eirika looked back up at him and offered a small smile in return. "You're right," she said, nodding. She took a deep breath to steel herself. "All right. I'm ready."

Ephraim turned back to the doors. "Well, here we go," he said.

Lifting the large bronze knocker, Ephraim gave the door three solid raps before standing back. In a moment, the doors opened and a servant appeared.

"Yes?" she asked, peering up at them. "How may I help you?"

"Hello," Ephraim replied, smiling politely. "We're Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika. Emperor Vigarde is expecting us?"

The servant's eyes widened in recognition, and she hastily threw open the doors. "My apologies, your highnesses!" she said, bowing profusely. "I did not recognize you. Please forgive me; I meant no disrespect—"

The servant looked so flustered that Eirika couldn't help but attempt to calm her down. "It's quite all right," she said, placing a gentle hand on the servant's shoulder, interrupting her string of apologies. "Please, don't look so disconcerted. Can you show us where we'll be residing?"

"I…" The servant glanced at Eirika's hand and paused before giving the twins another bow. "Begging your forgiveness, but I'm afraid I can't. Prince Lyon has requested that he meet you before I show you to your quarters," she said ruefully.

"Oh," said Eirika, surprised. "I see." She looked back at her brother, who gave her an indifferent shrug in response to her questioning gaze.

"Why not?" he said, before flashing a rogue grin at her. "You wanted to meet him, after all."

Eirika flushed. "I didn't mean it like that—"

Ephraim paid her no heed. Pushing himself past her, he asked the servant, "Where is he?"

"If you would kindly follow me, I'll show you where he is," she replied, gesturing behind her. "Prince Lyon is back this way, by the gardens." She promptly spun on her heel and began walking down the hall.

"Let's go," Ephraim said, grasping his sister's hand and pulling her down the hall before she could protest.

As she hastened to keep up with her brother, Eirika surveyed the red carpeted hall, pleasantly surprised. Despite its cold, seemingly uninviting stony exterior, Grado Keep was fairly hospitable inside. The columns were decorated with gold and black ribbons; the suits of armor were nicely polished and shone as they stood on their gleaming teak wood pedestals. She barely had time to take in all of the sights when the servant paused before two large double doors.

"Here we are," she announced, throwing out her arms with a flourish. With some difficulty, she opened one of the doors. Bowing and gesturing for them to come forward, the servant said, "Prince Ephraim, Princess Eirika, I present to you the Grado gardens. It is our pride and joy."

Letting out a gasp of surprise, Eirika stepped through the door, a smile on her face. "It's…beautiful," she murmured, looking around.

There were apple trees lining the walkway, blossoms in full bloom and swaying gently in the wind. In a nearby pond the birds bathed and chirped cheerfully amidst the lilies that were floating in the water. She could also smell lavender and lilacs nearby.

"Ephraim," Eirika said as she examined a bush full of yellow roses, "isn't it lovely?" She smiled to herself as she knelt to pick a rose. "It's so very…peaceful."

"That's why I like to come here so often."

Eirika straightened and blinked in confusion. That was decidedly _not _her brother's voice.

She had but a moment to turn when a boy their age emerged from behind the trees. He smiled kindly at them.

Startled by his sudden appearance, Eirika hastily took a step back from the rosebush.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you," said the boy, a guilty look crossing his features. "I heard voices, and I thought to look…"

"I'm sorry," Eirika stammered, feeling like a child caught in a bad act. "The roses were so lovely, and I couldn't help but—oh!" She let out a cry of surprise as her hand caught the thorns on one of the rosebushes.

The boy's eyes widened as he saw the blood well up in the cuts on the back of her hand. "You've hurt yourself," he said, stepping toward her, a look of concern on his face.

Ephraim stepped defensively between Eirika and the boy, stopping him from reaching his sister.

"And you are?" he asked pointedly.

The boy stopped abruptly, surprised at the confrontation. He took a step back, looking at them both before a look of recognition dawned on his face. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"My name is Lyon," he replied quietly. He refused to meet Ephraim's gaze.

Recognizing the name, Eirika brushed past her brother so that she could face the prince directly. "Lyon?" she said. "As in, the crown prince Lyon?"

He nodded, looking at her. "That would be me, yes. You two must be Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika of Renais. I heard you were coming and I've been waiting here all day." He cast a glance at Eirika's injured hand. "And you're—you've injured yourself on account of me…" His gaze fell again.

Eirika took a step forward and placed her uninjured hand on his shoulder. Lyon looked up at her, surprised at the contact. "Don't blame yourself," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "It was my fault. I should have paid more attention. In fact, I should be the one apologizing—I was about to take one of your roses without even asking you! That was incredibly rude of me."

Lyon stared back at her. "You did nothing wrong," he said, confused.

"It's her nature," Ephraim said, taking a step forward and placing a protective hand on Eirika's shoulder. "When she feels as if she did something wrong, she needs to apologize. She does the same for me—whenever I do something wrong, she's the first to apologize for me." He smiled, and Eirika blushed, clasping her hands in front of her.

"I…see," Lyon replied, looking at them. He swallowed hard. "You know," he started, "I've always wanted…" He paused, and then tried again. "I've never had any friends my own age," he said slowly, and there was an uncomfortable edge to his voice.

"So, Prince Ephraim, Princess Eirika… What do you say?"

"What kind of a question is that? Of course we will!" Eirika said, before breaking out in laughter. It wasn't ill-natured, but it caused Lyon to flush anyway.

Ephraim smiled. "Please, don't mind my sister," he said, extending a hand. "I know you already know my name, but I'm Ephraim. I apologize for being a little defensive a few moments ago."

The two shook hands, and a look of relief flooded Lyon's face. After a moment, Eirika too extended a hand.

"My name is Eirika," she said, unable to keep a small laugh from escaping her lips as she introduced herself. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Prince Lyon."

"Please, no formalities," Lyon replied, taking the proffered hand. "Lyon will do."

"Very well," she said, laughing again. "Lyon it is, then." Eirika was surprised at how much the young prince put her at ease. And to think, she had been nervous about the entire exchange!

"You're still injured," Lyon said, looking at Eirika's left hand. He paused for a moment before extending a hand. "May I see?"

Eirika hesitated for a moment, and then offered him her left hand. He gingerly took it in his.

"The cuts don't appear to be very deep," he replied, examining it. "Unfortunately, I don't have any healing spells at my disposal—"

"Are you versed in the magics, Lyon?" Ephraim asked. Lyon nodded, but didn't elaborate.

"I may not be able to do much, but I can bandage your wound," he said, looking at Eirika. "If you'd like, I can ask one of the healers to look at it, as well."

"Oh, no—I can't possibly ask you to do that," Eirika said, shaking her head. "A simple bandaging should suffice. You're already doing so much. Thank you."

"It is no trouble," Lyon replied. "It is the least I can do. But to tend to your wound, we will need to head inside the Keep. Do you mind?"

"Not at all." Eirika shook her head before looking back at Ephraim. "Brother?" she asked.

"I don't mind at all," he replied. "Let's head inside."

Lyon nodded. "Follow me, then." He began to walk forward, Eirika and Ephraim following. "I hope you had a pleasant trip here," he said, as he walked through the open doors. "Have you been shown your lodgings?"

Ephraim shook his head. "No, we haven't. The servant we met at the door told us you wanted to meet us first, and Eirika—" he playfully prodded his sister, "was only too eager to oblige."

Eirika flushed and muttered something under her breath as she placed a hand on her forehead.

"What was that, Eirika?" Ephraim said, grinning.

"You and that mouth of yours," she replied, rubbing her temple. "If there is one thing that I absolutely _detest_ about you, Brother, it is the fact that you always tease me."

"Well," Ephraim said, hooking his arms behind his head, "I'm afraid it's not _my_ fault that you blush so easily." He shot a wink at Lyon, who blinked in confusion.

Eirika caught the exchange, which only served to make her flush even more. Determined to save what little pride she had left, she huffed, "Well, then, if that's the way you're going to act, then I'm leaving." She pushed past her brother and Lyon, walking further into the Keep.

"Wait, Eirika—!" Lyon protested, stumbling after her, "You haven't even been shown you where you'll be residing; you could easily get lost! And then there's the matter of your wound—"

But Eirika paid him no heed and continued to march straight into the Keep.

They did not find her until late in the evening, asleep in one of the antechambers. In the end, they let her be. Lyon tended to her wound when she woke the next day.

* * *

"Eirika!"

She heard the sound of her name and looked up. Ephraim stood there in the doorway.

"What is it, Ephraim?" She knew that weariness was evident in her normally kind, cheerful voice.

"Actually, I— Are you all right?" A concerned look crossed his face, and he entered the room.

"I'm fine, Brother. Just…dwelling on some things." She smiled tiredly at him.

A sympathetic look came onto his face. "Thinking about Lyon again?" he asked.

She nodded before casting her glance at the floor. "It's been such a long time, but I…I still miss him, Ephraim."

He sighed, and then hugged her, placing a comforting hand in her hair. She sank into his arms, head resting on his chest. "We all do, Eirika," he said. "We all do."

There was a moment of silence, and then Eirika said, "Brother, I wouldn't want to keep you from your duties." She straightened, breaking the embrace and placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Please, do not worry about me. I'll be up to join you later."

Ephraim, sensing that she wanted to be alone, nodded. "I'll leave you, then."

She waited until his footsteps faded away, and then turned back to gaze outside the window, where the rain beat softly against the windowpanes.

Winter was here.

* * *

"Did you know that I'd never seen snow before I came here?" Eirika commented, extending her hand out and letting a snowflake fall on it. It promptly melted into a drop of water in the palm of her hand.

Lyon looked at her, surprised. "Never?"

Eirika shook her head. "It's never cold enough in inland Renais for snow. Sleet, perhaps, but never snow. It typically rains." She paused for a moment to turn at Lyon and smile. "When Ephraim and I first came here to Grado—that was the first time we ever witnessed snow. It never fails to fascinate me."

They were standing ankle deep in a snow bank outside the Keep, near the forest. Eirika, excited by the prospect of seeing the first snow again in Grado, had grabbed a bleary-eyed, reluctant Lyon from his study and dragged him outside with her, claiming that some fresh air would wake him up and do him good.

He had protested, of course, but she would have none of it and had continued to drag him through the halls of the Keep by his arm while he stumbled and stammered and tried to make up excuses for not going outside.

(Admittedly, he didn't try very hard.)

Now, standing here in the frigid morning air, Lyon watched as Eirika abruptly stuck out her tongue and let another snowflake fall on it. He stared at her.

"Um, Eirika?" he asked hesitantly. "What…what are you doing?"

She didn't reply; instead she clamped her mouth shut, a pensive look crossing her face.

"Hmm," she finally said, after a moment. "It doesn't _taste _differently…"

"I should hope not," Lyon replied. "It is, after all, just water."

"Yes, but I thought that perhaps it might taste…better."

"Better." Lyon repeated slowly, staring blankly at her.

Eirika gave him a radiant smile in reply. "Yes! Fresher, would be my guess."

Lyon scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I suppose it's a feasible hypothesis…" he conceded, yawning and stretching.

Eirika stifled a laugh. "You look like a cat," she remarked.

"Come again?" Lyon paused for a moment in his stretching to look at her.

"I said, you look like a cat, stretching like that." Grinning, she poked him in the stomach. He doubled over with a snort.

Eirika laughed at his reaction. "Ticklish, aren't we?" she teased, poking him again. "Why, I wouldn't have guessed that the crown prince of Grado had such a sensitive spot."

"Stop," he said, laughing slightly at the touch. "Please."

"Oh, no," she said brightly, eyes sparkling with mischief. "You won't get away that easily."

Lyon held up his hands in front of him, backing away as Eirika approached, grinning impishly and looking uncannily like her brother. "Eirika," he protested, taking a cautious step back, "please, don't—"

He abruptly stopped talking as Eirika backed him into a tree and fixed him with that mischievous look of hers.

And then, quite suddenly, she took a step back and laughed.

Lyon blinked, confused.

She laughed again—this time, at the look on his face. "I didn't mean any harm," she said, laugh dying down to a smile. "I wouldn't do that to you."

Lyon let out a sigh of relief. "You certainly had me believing that you were," he said, grinning. "I do believe that Ephraim has rubbed off on you."

"Perhaps he has." Eirika's smile turned smug before she wrapped her arms around her for warmth. "My, I didn't realize how cold it was," she said, shivering slightly. "It didn't occur to me to bring a cloak. I was so excited to see the snow that it slipped my mind… How foolish of me."

Lyon laughed and pushed himself up from the tree.

"Here," he said, as he started to take off his cloak.

She realized what he was doing and started to protest. "No, Lyon, you don't have to—"

He cut her off. "I wouldn't want you to catch a cold. Ephraim would have my head if you did."

Eirika sighed and let Lyon put the cloak on her. "Thank you," she said, gratefully. "You're very kind, Lyon."

He merely smiled at her in reply before turning his attention to the clasp. He fumbled with it, fingers working with the strap as he adjusted the cloak so that it fit her.

"There," he said, after moment. "Is that better?"

Eirika nodded. "But…" she said, peering up at him quizzically, "I never said a thing."

Lyon hesitated before answering. "I just…thought you should be more comfortable," he mumbled. He turned his head away, embarrassed. His hands, however, remained on the clasp by her neck.

She smiled and placed her hands over his. "I didn't mean to sound harsh, Lyon," she said apologetically, squeezing gently. "I'm sorry if I did; that wasn't my intention."

He turned back to face her. "Eirika…"

He gave her a long look. Eirika, unable to tear her own eyes away, stood there stiffly and attempted to return the gaze with a look of her own.

So close, she thought, suddenly aware of the proximity between them. He was so very close. She could feel the warmth of Lyon's body against hers despite the cold.

He too seemed aware of it, but dared not make a move.

Odd. It was almost as if—

_No. _Eirika banished the stray thought from her head, chiding herself as she did so. There was just _no_ possible way; he was much too shy, much too genteel—

But the manner in which his gaze held hers, so desperate, so pleading—

So…_expressive_…

She bit her lip and waited expectantly.

Slowly, almost cautiously, Lyon moved towards her. Eirika could feel his breath on her cheek, and vaguely wondered why her heart was suddenly pounding so furiously.

His lips hesitantly brushed hers, and her eyes began to slip closed—

And then, suddenly—abruptly—Lyon pulled away, as if he realized what he was doing and had second thoughts.

"We should probably go inside now," he mumbled, turning away. He wrenched his hands from underneath hers and stared hard at the ground.

Eirika could only blink in surprise at his sudden, unexpected reaction. One minute he was about to kiss her, and then the next…

She felt unbelievably, inexplicably disappointed. As she raised a hand up to gently touch her lips, she cast a glance over to her friend.

"Lyon," she said, after a moment, "I…"

He refused to meet her gaze, choosing instead to look up at the Keep.

"It's almost time for our history lesson," he said, flatly. "We should head back inside now. Ephraim will probably be wondering where we are."

Saddened by his feigned indifference at what had happened, Eirika nodded.

"You're right," she agreed, dropping her hand. "He probably is. We should go."

They trudged back up to the Keep in silence. When Ephraim asked them where they had gone, Lyon merely told him that Eirika had wanted to see the snow and left it at that.

* * *

A book fell abruptly from the shelf, startling her. Sighing, she got up out of her chair to replace it.

Picking it up, she turned it over to see the title.

"_Founding Emperor Grado,_" she mumbled, tracing the gilded lettering with her fingers. A smile began to tug the corners of her mouth as she opened the book and began to thumb through the pages. Some of them were torn at the bottom; others were creased in the upper right hand corner—places where either she or her brother had dog-eared a particularly important passage. Occasionally, she would find a note written in the margin in her brother's messy scrawl.

Eirika was laughing over a particularly humorous note Ephraim had written when she caught sight of another familiar scrawl at the bottom of the page. Her laugh died down as she recognized the handwriting.

Abruptly, she snapped the book shut and shoved it hastily onto the bookcase, willing herself to remain composed.

But she couldn't stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks before she wiped them away with the back of her hand as she left the room.

* * *

"Lyon, you study too much," Ephraim said, looking around the study.

Eirika laughed from her place in the chair. "He, unlike you, Brother, is dedicated to books rather than swordplay. Right, Lyon?" She turned to face him—or rather, where he was.

His head appeared from behind a pile of books. "Everyone has his or her own hobbies," he replied, smiling.

"You're always cooped up in here, though," Ephraim said thoughtfully as he gazed out the library window into the town.

"Ephraim is right. We should go do something," Eirika suggested.

"I really don't think that's a good idea… I'd rather stay here and continue my studies," Lyon replied. "There's still so much more work to be done. If I'm to make any progress in my study of how arcane magics function, I must perform more research." A sad look came across his face. "Time runs against me."

"I understand your wish to see your father cured," Eirika said, "but if you continue to push yourself like this, you'll compromise your health. And what good would you be then? Besides, we hardly see you nowadays!"

"Nonsense," Lyon said. "You see me during our daily lessons—"

"True, but then you go shut yourself up in your study and don't come out until the next day, when it's time for our lessons again," Ephraim said, cutting him off. "Eirika has a point, Lyon. There's nothing wrong with seeing your desire to help people come to fruition, but what good is that if you sacrifice yourself to do it?"

"Surely you can take a break once in a while, can't you?" Eirika added.

Lyon faltered upon seeing Eirika's pleading gaze. "Well, I—"

Ephraim placed his hands down on the edge of the desk and leaned forward imposingly. The pile of books on the desk teetered precariously before toppling to the floor.

"I bet you haven't taken any real time off at all," Ephraim said, fixing a critical look upon his friend, who winced before bending over to pick up the books that had fallen.

"I thought so," Ephraim continued. "So this is what we're going to do. Today, Eirika and I are going into the city. And you're coming with us, Lyon." He walked over to where Lyon sat and snatched the books from his hands, tossing them carelessly onto the floor again, much to Lyon's dismay. Ephraim then began to lift him up out of the chair by his arms. Eirika quickly picked up and rearranged the books, placing them on a nearby table before rushing over to help him.

Lyon began to protest. "But Ephraim," he said, looking up at him and struggling to free himself, "you've got a history report due."

Ephraim pretended not to hear him. "We're taking today off," he said, fixing a withering glare on his friend as he and Eirika pulled him out of the seat. "C'mon, let's go."

"Bu-but, Ephraim…"

"Oh, don't be such a bore," Eirika said as the two gave one last tug that freed him from his chair and up onto his feet. Dusting him off, she continued, "It's just for one day, and I won't tell anyone." Fixing his collar and giving him a friendly smile, she finished, "Won't it be fun for the three of us to spend a day in the city?"

Letting out a dejected sigh, Lyon finally conceded. "Thanks," he said, offering them a rueful smile after a moment. "I really _am_ lucky to have the two of you as friends."

Eirika beamed and Ephraim, unused to such sentimentality, looked away.

"You know, you don't have to be so sentimental about everything," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

Lyon only smiled back, and Eirika laughed.

* * *

Determined not to lose face, Eirika headed down the corridor towards the barracks.

Despite the freezing rain, the Knights of Renais continued to train, General Seth leading them. Upon spotting her, Seth stepped out of the line, leaving Forde and Kyle to lead the young squires.

"Princess Eirika," he greeted with a cordial bow.

"General Seth," she replied, inclining her head.

He straightened and faced her. "What brings you to our barracks this afternoon, milady?" he asked.

Eirika smiled thinly. "Please, Seth. I've told you countless times to call me Eirika. I've known you since I was a child; there should be none of these silly formalities between us."

He hesitated. "But, Prin—"

She raised an eyebrow in warning.

"…Eirika," he corrected himself, bowing slightly as he did so.

Exasperated, Eirika crossed her arms in front of her. "Oh, never mind," she said, irritated at his manner yet knowing that he didn't mean to intentionally annoy her. "I've come to see how our young knights-in-training are doing."

"They're doing well," he replied, smiling proudly. "I'm surprised at how eager they are—they insisted on training in such bitter weather, despite our warnings."

"Are you certain that it's appropriate for them to be training?" Eirika asked. "I worry that they may fall ill. After all, sickness was no stranger to our army."

"Indeed it wasn't," Seth agreed. "We've set up a tent of sorts to keep the rain out, but to be safe, we will shorten the training to half past the hour. Unfortunately, that means that we will have to lengthen the training sessions to make up for the lost time."

Eirika nodded. "That's understandable. But please…don't push them too hard. I recall how grueling my sessions with Ephraim were. While sickness is to be avoided, fatigue is not much better, I'm afraid."

"Rest assured, Lady Eirika, they will not be fatigued. They've learned their breathing exercises well, and there is no lack of energy among these squires." Seth laughed. "In fact, _they _are the ones who are pushing _us _to our limits."

"Is that so?" Eirika replied, smiling. "Best that you keep up, General Seth, or your students will surpass you before long. You must uphold your honor as the Silver Knight."

"Ah," he said, smiling good naturedly, "but that has already happened, milady. Franz surpassed me long ago."

Eirika nodded. "He has grown to be a fine knight. I'm told that he is much like his father before him."

"Indeed he is." A confused look crossed Seth's face as he placed a hand on his head. "Yet… He continues to look up at me. He is constantly asking for my advice, but I have none left to give. I'm afraid I don't understand why he continues to seek my counsel."

"That would be because you are his hero," Eirika said, half-smiling. "A good pupil will always look upon his teacher with reverence, even when he surpasses his master."

"I suppose that's true. Yet—"

"Is that Princess Eirika I see? General Seth, why didn't you tell us that she chose to greet us with her royal presence?" Forde suddenly shouted from the line of recruits, interrupting their current conversation.

Eirika chose to respond. "Because I didn't want to interrupt the training session. You have all been working so hard—"

"Nonsense!" Forde said jovially. "A visit from your royal highness is never something we brush off! In fact, it's your very presence that infuses us with the strength needed to—"

"_Forde_…" Kyle warned from behind him.

"It's quite all right, Kyle," Eirika said, smiling at the exchange. "I don't mind. If you would be so kind as to introduce me to our new recruits?"

Kyle nodded, clapping a fist to his heart. "Yes, milady." He turned to face the line of squires, who followed his lead as he fell to one knee. Eirika was never one for formalities such as this, but she knew they were necessary.

"Rise, my children," she said smoothly as she took her place in front of the line. The squires stood up silently, heads bowed in deference as she appraised them, one by one.

"Would you like to see a demonstration, milady?" Forde asked her. "I'm sure they are more than willing to show their skills to the princess of Renais."

Eirika shook her head. "No; that won't be necessary. They've worked hard enough. What formation are they currently learning?"

"Allow us to show you, princess," Kyle said, before turning to the line and shouting out an order. The squires drew their swords. He shouted once again, and immediately the squires began to move in unison, demonstrating their swordplay.

"I remember this form," Eirika said, as Seth joined her side. "A difficult one, if I recall correctly." She paused.

"Is something wrong, milady?"

"It's nothing," Eirika said, shaking her head. The two continued to watch the recruits.

* * *

"Care to spar with me, Eirika?" asked Lyon randomly one afternoon while in the study.

Eirika blinked in surprise at the question. "But, Lyon," she said slowly, "you don't even know how to hold a lance, much less wield one."

"On the contrary," he said, setting down his history book down. "As a matter of fact, Ephraim has been teaching me."

"Is that so?" Eirika said. "I never would have guessed. I didn't know."

"That's because you've never asked," Lyon laughed. "Care to test your luck?"

"I really don't know if I should—"

"We're just about done here, anyway," he pressed. "I can help you finish, if you'd like."

"I _do _need to practice my forms," Eirika admitted, setting down her quill. "I suppose a small break wouldn't hurt…"

Lyon smiled at her before gesturing towards the entrance of the study. "Shall we? I promise I won't let you win so easily."

"Oh?" Eirika said, rising to his challenge. "I'll have you know that I've worked very hard with Ephraim these days. I've recently mastered a new form. You won't best me so easily."

He laughed. "We'll see, won't we?" he said, as he escorted her out of the study.

She smiled back. "We shall," she replied, before stepping out past him.

The sword she picked from the armory was a rapier with a gilded hilt. While Eirika detested fighting and avoided it at all costs, she was not naïve—she knew that there was a possibility that some day she would need to defend herself against an opponent, whoever that might be. And so she had asked her brother to teach her. But his weapon of choice, the lance, was too heavy for her build, and so she had selected a rapier instead—a weapon whose power lay in thrusting techniques, much like a lance. It had made Ephraim's teaching easier.

"Are you ready, Lyon?" Eirika asked, casting a glance behind her. She smiled as she saw him struggling to free a steel lance from the rack above him. After a few moments, he managed to wrest it from its place.

"Ah, yes," he replied hastily, unclasping his robe and laying it aside. "I apologize for the wait."

Eirika smiled again. "Don't worry. But… Are you sure you want to spar with me?" she asked. "You're my friend, Lyon, but I will not go easy on you."

He smiled back at her. "Rest assured, I'm certain," he said. "And I would expect nothing less than the best from you. It wouldn't do our friendship justice if you chose to rest easy on me."

The two walked out into the courtyard, Eirika taking her place at one end and Lyon at the other.

"Lyon," said Eirika, planting her feet and raising her rapier, "I hope you're prepared."

"Likewise," he replied, mimicking her stance.

They charged at one another, meeting halfway with such force that Eirika momentarily lost her stance. And not even a minute into the match, Lyon had aimed the lance and set it to rest against her abdomen.

"Point," he said, grinning before letting the lance rest.

Eirika blinked in surprise. "I underestimated you, Lyon," she said, looking up at him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you. But—" and she took up her stance once again, "we still have eight more points left." She charged again.

And so it went, each of them gaining and then losing ground, yet neither of them yielding; both of them throwing themselves into every point until the final one, with four and four each.

Eirika thrust forward with her rapier, planting a foot behind her to steady her stance as she made contact with Lyon's lance, and the two were exchanged in a heated struggle, neither of them yielding any ground despite the fact that they were both tired. Both of them were breathing heavily, actively straining to overpower the other, staring each other down, and Eirika couldn't help but admire her friend for his effort; she never would have guessed—

And then—

It was subtle; Eirika would have hardly caught it had she not been looking. Lyon shifted ever so slightly, and that was the opening she needed. Using her back leg, she threw herself forward with a last burst of strength. He lost his footing, lance falling from his hand as he fell to the ground in front of her. She whipped the point of the sword so that it rested underneath his chin.

"You lose," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Indeed I do," Lyon replied, breathing heavily as he looked up at her. "I yield. The point is yours, Eirika."

She dropped the sword and offered him her hand. "Here," she said, "let me help you."

"No, it's all right," he said, already lifting himself up off his knees, dusting himself off and wiping the sweat from his brow. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Well," Eirika said uncomfortably, scrambling to fill the sudden silence between them, "you did quite well, Lyon. Your form was very impressive. I'm certainly tired!" She laughed breathlessly.

He didn't meet her gaze, instead choosing to pick up the lance from where it had fallen. Giving it an experimental twirl, he said, "I still lost." There was no anger in his voice; in fact, it was surprisingly dull.

"Lyon?" Eirika asked hesitantly. "Are you all right?"

He looked at her, ignoring her question. "Pitiful crown prince, am I not?" he said, giving her a rueful smile.

Eirika was startled by the remark. "No," she said, taking a step toward him and shaking her head, sadness welling up within her as she realized what he meant. "No, that's not true—"

"Oh, but it is," he said brightly, cutting her off. "I hear what they say of me. That I should give up my post, place it in the hands of retainers who have Grado's best interest at heart. Perhaps they are right. After all, if I can't even win a simple match such as this, how am I to run a country?"

His false, upbeat manner hurt her. Eirika hated it. _Hated _it.

"Lyon, I—"

"Hm? What is it?" he said, looking at her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, dropping her eyes. It was ridiculous to apologize, she knew, but she did so anyway. Anything to stop him from looking so hurt…

Lyon was surprised. "What are you apologizing for?" he said. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I-I…" Eirika swallowed hard. "It hurts me to see you look this way," she said, quietly. "To see you look so hurt. I don't like seeing you like this. I…" Tears suddenly began welling up and she turned away, embarrassed.

He laid a hand on her shoulder and turned her so that she was facing him. "Eirika… Please, don't cry," he said. "I didn't mean to—"

She refused to meet his gaze, angrily scrubbing at the tears that kept springing up—_gods, this was so embarrassing!_—and keeping her gaze focused on the ground instead.

"You're a very dear friend to me," said Eirika, sniffling. "I care very much about you. I don't understand… Why do you think of yourself in such a way?"

"What do you mean?"

She looked up at him, and this time there was anger in her voice. If only he could see!

"Why do you listen to them? Listen to the words 'they' say? _They_ don't know you like I do—like both of us know you!

"Those royals—the ones who say they have Grado's best interest at heart—they don't know anything about this country! I've seen how much you care for your people. You want nothing but the best for them. You always have. The research you've done, the girl you saved from the fire—how could you possibly _not _have the country's best interest at heart! So why—why do you talk about yourself in such a way; put yourself down? I don't understand! I—"

Eirika paused then, faltering as the tears began to spring forth again as her anger began to die down. This time, she didn't even bother to stop it. Instead, she let herself cry in front of Lyon there in the courtyard, not caring whether it was rational or not.

"Eirika…" he said, unsure of what to do or say.

"You're wrong, Lyon," she choked out. "My father always told me that a ruler—an emperor—without compassion will never hold the people's love. And I—surely, one day, your compassion… It will save us all. I believe that."

Lyon stared at her, struck by her words. Wordlessly, he embraced her, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

"Eirika," he said, after a long moment, "thank you. Even though I lack the strength that you have, there must be some good that I can do. And so… I will do my best." Against his better judgment, he kissed her forehead. She leaned against him in response, sniffling.

"You're a good person, Lyon," she said in a small voice. "I only wish you could see that."

They remained like that for a long while, Eirika's face buried in Lyon's chest, his in her hair.

The birds continued to chirp merrily in the courtyard, oblivious to the two.

* * *

"I lose," Eirika said, dropping the sword she held and raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. She smiled to herself. Was this how he had felt that day?

"You were quite formidable for not picking up a sword for so long," said Kyle, surprised. "And I do believe you've tired out the Silver Knight!" he added, chuckling.

"Nonsense!" said Forde, shaking his head before clapping Kyle forcefully on the back, earning him a grunt. "Milady, please ignore my comrade here; he should have known better than to doubt your swordsmanship! Kyle, you should be ashamed for doubting our lady's skills—"

"_Forde_…"

Seth coughed slightly, effectively halting the exchange. "I apologize, milady," he said, smiling apologetically at her. "I'm sure you've become used to their exchanges by now, but nonetheless…"

"It's quite all right," Eirika replied, cheered by their antics. "Without these two, I would say that it would be quite boring around here indeed!" She smiled at them.

Kyle flushed slightly at the compliment, but Forde wasted no time in replying. Throwing an arm around his comrade, he said jovially, "Why, thank you, milady! It is our pleasure." He inclined his head forward in a respectful bow.

"Carry on, gentlemen," she said, nodding back at Kyle and Forde before turning to Seth. "Thank you, Seth, for allowing me to spar with you. You are every bit as talented as you have been. If only I could be as diligent as you…"

"Nonsense, Princess Eirika," Seth said. "You've been quite busy these past few days, setting Renais' affairs in order. The fact that you very nearly won despite not having practiced for so long is a testament to your talent indeed."

"Perhaps so," Eirika said, "but I should be more diligent. Will you allow me to practice with you once things have settled down?"

"Of course, milady. It would be my pleasure."

"Thank you, Seth," Eirika said, giving him a grateful smile. "Now, if you will excuse me… I would not want to keep you any further from your recruits."

"Certainly." Seth clapped a hand over his heart and bowed in deference to her. Eirika bowed in reply, and Seth went to join Forde and Kyle in the barracks.

She was cold. A bath was in order, she decided, as she headed into the recesses of the castle.

Absently, her hand went up to her head, undoing the pin in her hair and letting it fall. Bernadine had insisted on making her hair today; she was always fond of pins and clasps despite the fact that Eirika hadn't pinned it back since the war. But nonetheless, she had obliged.

Pulling the pin out of her hair, she looked at it, laughing as she recognized the ornate butterfly and flowers that decorated the handle.

Clasping the pin in her hand, Eirika continued to walk towards her bedchambers, smiling.

* * *

"Honestly, I don't understand why formal dress is so stiff!" Tana complained. "This corset _hurts_!"

"Tana!" admonished Eirika with a whisper, covering her mouth with the fan she was cooling herself with, "Don't be so loud! They'll hear you…"

"But it's true! You can't possibly disagree with me, can you?"

Eirika paused for a moment before shaking her head with a sigh. "No, I cannot. But," she said, fanning herself again, "I suppose one must get used to it." She shifted uncomfortably. "However, I believe that there are may be some things that one may never become used to…"

"It's horrible; I can hardly breathe! I know I shouldn't complain—Father says it's awfully unladylike, but I can't help it." Tana sighed, then turned to face her friend. "But you _do_ look pretty, Eirika. That is a beautiful dress."

Flattered, Eirika blushed but managed to return a smile. "Thank you, Tana," she said. "You're very kind."

"You're very welcome," Tana replied, smiling back before looking around the ballroom. "My, you have quite a crowd here tonight."

"Indeed. Father saw it fit to invite everyone he could."

"And it would make sense! After all, it _is_ King Fado's thirtieth year in reigning. Quite a milestone, as my lord father says." Tana planted her hands on her hips and thrust her chin out, mimicking her father.

Eirika fought the urge to laugh. "Say, Tana," she began, "Where is your brother, Innes?"

"Hm? Innes? Oh." Tana laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "Knowing him, he's probably off with Ephraim challenging him to another one of those foolish duels of his… I wish he weren't so proud." She pouted.

"Proud?" Eirika asked. "Whatever do you mean?"

Tana turned to face her again. "Look at us, Eirika," she said, gesturing between them. "You and I are the best of friends! Why can't they follow our role and do so? I, for one, would like it. Wouldn't you?"

Eirika laughed. "I think that it's wishful thinking, Tana. But it can't hurt to hope, I suppose."

"I suppose…" Tana looked wistfully out into the crowd, and Eirika secretly hid a smile behind her fan. She knew that Tana was looking for her brother Ephraim, but decided to not say anything. Tana would tell her in due time; she would pretend not to know until then.

"And now presenting the venerated Pontifex Mansel and his niece, the most honorable Lady L'Arachel!" announced the caller near the entrance of the castle.

Eirika frowned, puzzled. The crown prince of Grado and his father, Emperor Vigarde, had yet to make an appearance. Or had they been announced already? She couldn't remember—

"Oh gods," whispered Tana under her breath.

"Tana?" Eirika asked, looking at her. "Whatever is the matter?"

Tana inclined her head towards the entrance of the ballroom, where Mansel and L'Arachel were entering, flanked by attendants.

"Do you mean Princess L'Arachel? What about her?"

"Have you met the woman?" Tana asked, before dropping her voice to a low whisper. "She's miserable! I have never met someone so self-absorbed in my _life_—"

"Oh, Tana," said Eirika, shaking her head. "Don't be silly. Of course I've met her. Yes, while it's true that she may be a little…egotistical, she certainly doesn't mean to be. At least, I don't think so."

Tana snorted and rolled her eyes. "Of course not." She froze suddenly. "Oh no," she said, a look of panic flooding her face.

"Tana? What's wr—" Eirika let out a cry of surprise as Tana suddenly snatched her arm.

"She's caught sight of us!" she said, and began to pull Eirika towards one of the side entrances. "Quickly, let's go before she gets here—"

"No! Tana, please—don't be rude—" Eirika struggled to free her arm but soon found herself short of breath. These corsets!

They soon found themselves outside, and Tana released her arm. "Whew! Safe. What?" she asked upon seeing the look on Eirika's face.

"That was incredibly rude of you, Tana," said Eirika. "Lady L'Arachel is our guest! Imagine what she's thinking right now! You should be ashamed."

Tana's face fell. "I'm sorry, Eirika," she said, and she genuinely meant it. "You're right. That was wrong of me. I was being selfish. I-I didn't mean to make you look like a poor hostess."

Eirika sighed and smiled. "It's all right, Tana," she said, patting her friend on the arm. "Not all is lost. Just keep it in mind for the next time, okay?"

Tana nodded glumly.

"Oh, don't look so crestfallen. You're making me feel sad, too. Cheer up," said Eirika, squeezing her friend's shoulder reassuringly. "There are worse things you could have done—"

Tana suddenly started, an idea dawning on her. "I know what to do!" she said, brightly, grabbing her friend's shoulders. Eirika could only blink back in surprise as Tana thrust a finger in her face. "Wait right here; I'll be right back!" And she dashed off.

"All…right…" Eirika managed to say as Tana vanished into the crowd in a flurry of color. She turned to face the gardens, taking a deep breath and letting it out.

"That Tana," she murmured, sitting down on a nearby bench and smoothing her dress out under her fingers. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

She looked up at the sky and absentmindedly toyed with a stray stand of her turquoise hair, letting her thoughts wander.

"I wonder where Lyon is," she said aloud, to no one in particular. Abruptly, she stopped playing with her hair and blinked in surprise.

_Did I just—?_

No. She shook her head, banishing the stray thought out of her head. Of course she would wonder where Lyon was; he was her friend—

—but—

She fought the urge to blush. When did this start happening?

With a frustrated sigh, she stood up and began pacing back and forth.

"There's no possible way," she mumbled. "I—he can't possibly—"

She stopped pacing and sat back down, covering her face with her hands and letting out a groan.

"This cannot be happening," she muttered.

"Eirika?"

The sound of footsteps and an all-too-familiar voice caused her to stand up abruptly.

"Yes?" she replied, looking around. "Back here…"

When she saw his face, she was confused—and somewhat elated?—at the giddy feeling that rose in her chest upon seeing him there, dressed in the regalia of his home country.

"Hello, Lyon." She managed to keep her voice even as she greeted him, despite the fact that her heart was suddenly racing. What was this feeling…?

He returned the greeting, inclining his head. "Eirika. I apologize for my late arrival. My father hasn't been feeling well these days. I'm afraid he won't be attending tonight, but he sends his best wishes to your father."

"Oh," said Eirika, surprised at the news. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that, Lyon. Be sure to give him my best wishes for a speedy recovery."

"I will." He smiled. "You look very lovely tonight, by the way."

Eirika blushed, and the giddy feeling in her chest returned. "Thank you," she replied. "And you—well, I must say that you make a very impressive figure, Crown Prince of Grado."

And she hid her face behind her fan to hide her grin, to which Lyon laughed.

After a moment, he offered his arm out, hesitantly. "Would you—ah, um…" He paused, took a breath, and gestured towards the ballroom. "Shall we go inside?"

Smiling, Eirika took his arm. "I'd be glad to. Father is probably wondering where I've gone off to."

The two headed inside, where Eirika spotted L'Arachel conversing with a very frazzled-looking Tana, who shot her a desperate look. L'Arachel followed her gaze, and the two made their way over.

"Princess Eirika, what a pleasure!" L'Arachel said. "I was just having a lovely conversation with Princess Tana. She said that she wanted me to speak with you, but I'm afraid we became a little sidetracked. My dear Rausten always manages to move me; such faith we all have! It is truly an honor to be a guiding beacon of light for those around us. Oh, I apologize—look at me, rambling about our fine country. But surely you must understand where I am coming from, yes?"

Eirika smiled hesitantly at L'Arachel's boisterous manner. "Of…course I do. We of Renais take great pride in our country. But we also are grateful for the friendships of our fellow allies." Here she looked at Tana, and then at Lyon, who smiled down at her.

"But of course!" L'Arachel agreed earnestly. "As one nation, we strong, but together, we are stronger. My dear uncle, Latona bless him, says—"

In a desperate attempt to stop L'Arachel from launching into another long conversation, Tana interrupted her by saying, "Prince Lyon, it does me glad to see you. How are you these days?"

"Very well, thank you," Lyon replied. "And you?"

"Likewise, thank you for asking," she said with a smile. "I'm more concerned about you, though. Where is your father?"

"Unfortunately, he's ill and won't be attending tonight."

"Oh. That's a shame. I do hope he gets better."

"Yes, I wholeheartedly agree. I will be praying for him as well."

"Thank you, Princess Tana, Princess L'Arachel."

A trumpet sounded in the background, and the crowd began to move, the women quickly pairing up with the men in preparation for the dance.

"Oh, would you look at that?" Tana said quickly. "It looks like the dances are about to start, and I don't have a partner!" She made a grand show of looking about wildly before her gaze settled on Ephraim and Innes, who had recently entered into the hall. "Oh, Ephraim! Brother! If you would excuse me… Come, L'Arachel, you can dance with my brother!"

There was a moment of silence as the two watched them leave.

"Well, that was certainly…interesting," Lyon remarked slowly.

"Indeed," Eirika agreed. "The Lady L'Arachel is quite a character; Innes will certainly have his hands full tonight. And Tana… I've never seen act so…odd."

The two exchanged glances and laughed.

The orchestra began to strike up a lively tune as the last of the ladies paired up with the men. Turning to Eirika, Lyon bowed and extended his hand. "Princess Eirika," he asked, voice faltering slightly, "would you…grant me the honor of a dance?"

Eirika let a smile cross her face. "Of course." She placed her hand in his. Straightening, he led her to the dance floor. He placed an arm round her waist and she laid a hand on his shoulder. The two began to dance, him taking the lead.

"Lyon, I never knew that you danced so well," Eirika commented as he spun her around.

"I may be a bookworm, but I'm not a complete recluse," he said, smiling.

"One might have thought otherwise."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes." Her heart skipped a beat as he spun her again and she could hear the blood rushing in her ears.

"Say, Eirika…"

"Y-yes?" Eirika was aware that she was blushing as she met Lyon's gaze.

"Would you mind going outside after this? I…have something for you."

Her immediate response was to refuse—she did not want to worry anyone by leaving again, and so abruptly—but something stopped her. She wasn't sure what it was, but it told her not to say no. "…I… All right. I will."

He smiled at her, and she managed to smile back. Her heart was pounding again—but strangely enough, she didn't mind.

As they moved across the floor, Eirika spotted Tana dancing with a miffed looking Ephraim. Upon seeing Eirika, Tana smiled and waved, and Eirika couldn't help but laugh. It helped calm her a little, if any.

The song began to draw to a close, and Lyon said, "Are you ready?"

Eirika looked at him. "I'm sorry? Ready for what?"

"This." He twirled her around and then brought her close to him. As if on cue, the song ended, leaving Eirika speechless and staring into Lyon's eyes.

They stood like that for a moment, both of them staring at each other before Lyon suddenly released her with a guilty—_what?_—look on his face. He shifted nervously. "Ah… Shall we?" He gestured toward the exit. Eirika nodded.

She let him lead her out of the hall and into the gardens. On her way out the doors, she spotted Tana and could have sworn that she had given her a wink.

Once outside, Eirika sat down on a bench and took a few breaths in an attempt to calm herself. A lady, she recited to herself, was always cool and collected, no matter what the situation. This she told herself several times before finally standing up from the bench and looking at Lyon.

"Was there something you wanted to tell me?" she asked, forcing herself to smile.

"Oh! Um, right. Eirika, I…have something for you." Lyon fumbled with the buttons of his jacket as he attempted to retrieve her gift out of one of the pockets.

Despite the fact that he had told her that earlier, she was slightly thrown off guard as he procured a small box from his pocket. "For…me?" she asked, looking at the gift for a moment before turning her gaze to him.

Lyon nodded. "I had meant to give this to you a long time ago, but I never managed to find an appropriate occasion to. If it please you, would you…accept this? It would…mean a great deal to me."

"Of course," she murmured. Gingerly, Eirika took the box from his outstretched hands and opened it. Lying on the blue velvet was a golden hairpin, an ornate monarch butterfly and white flowers decorating the handle.

"It's…lovely," she said, as she traced the wings of the butterfly with the tips of her fingers.

"I thought you might like it," Lyon said. "Ephraim told me that you have a fondness for the butterflies and apple blossoms in our gardens. I thought…you might be able to wear it one of these days."

Eirika looked up at him. "I… I don't know what to say, Lyon. This is…" She was at a loss for words.

"…Eirika?" Lyon asked hesitantly. "Is…something the matter?"

Another lesson suddenly sprang up in her head, this time from her mother. _Remember, Eirika_, she had told her,_ actions speak louder than words._

She set the box down on the bench beside them. Taking a deep breath and mustering up her courage, she turned to Lyon and took his hands into her own. Surprised, he looked up at her, and she could see a faint blush on his cheeks.

Shyly, she leaned in and gave Lyon a kiss on the cheek. She felt him stiffen at first, then relax.

Smiling, she drew back and whispered, "Thank you."

* * *

That was the last memory she had of him. Or, rather, the last _fond_ memory she'd had of him before the war.

He didn't deserve it, Eirika thought, as she walked down the hallways toward her bedchamber. Lyon was such a kind person. What did he warrant to deserve such a fate?

Her footsteps echoed off the corridor walls, making her feel empty inside.

It had been almost a year now since all of those horrid events had happened. Inside, she desperately wanted to let go of it all, to move on, but at the same time, she couldn't. Not yet.

The tears began to flow and she broke into a run, desperate to reach her chamber before anyone saw her. Passing the throne room and rounding the corner, she ran up the steps and down the hall until the teak door of her bedchamber came into view.

She threw herself at it, and it swung open with a loud groaning sound before closing behind her. It was then, and only then, as she leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, that she let herself weep, pulling her knees to her chest as the tears dripped down her chin and onto the floor.

And so, the final and most painful memory surfaced.

* * *

Warm. Something warm was running down her forearms, across her fingers, over the hilt of Sieglinde. She could hear it dripping onto the temple floor.

A hand on her shoulder, squeezing tightly—painfully. _His _hand. Eirika let out a gasp of surprise, tears streaming down her face from the numb shock of it all.

Now came a voice from above her. Malevolent, mocking, inhuman, _evil. _

It was laughing. _Laughing. _At him, at her, at the sheer tragedy of it all.

A whisper near her ear: "You've failed him."

Eirika's hands trembled as she gripped Sieglinde tighter, drove it deeper.

"No," she whispered back, shaking her head. "I've saved him."

Another derisive chuckle, followed by a sneer. "Ah, is that so?"

Anger, now. She lifted her head and rose to meet the Demon King's gaze, her face contorting into a look of cold, calculated fury.

"Yes. I made a promise, and I intend to honor it," she hissed, voice rising with each word. "I won't let you desecrate his body any longer. Now, _leave him be!" _

With a grunt, Eirika wrenched Sieglinde out of Lyon's body, sending out a spray of blood that drenched the walls and the temple floor.

The Demon King stumbled back and fell onto his knees, clutching his abdomen as he grimaced in pain. Looking up at Eirika, he began to laugh maniacally, blood running down his chin and dripping onto the floor.

She continued to look at him coldly, willing herself to keep her composure despite the tears that flowed down her cheeks and obscured her vision. With deliberate calm, she lifted Sieglinde and pointed its tip towards the Demon King, fighting the cry of anguish that threatened to escape.

"Shut your mouth," Eirika spat venomously, body shaking with anger and anguish for the man she had just struck down. "You've lost. You'll not return to this world."

The Demon King continued to laugh, shaking his head. "On the contrary, my dear. You're too late," he rasped, before finally collapsing sideways onto the floor, defeated.

Almost instantaneously the anger within her dissipated, replaced now by a sense of dread upon seeing his lifeless body there on the temple floor.

_Red…_

It was all too much.

"Lyon!" Eirika cried, dropping Sieglinde and rushing to his body.

"Eirika, wait!" Ephraim called from behind her, but she paid no heed to his warning. All she wanted was to speak with him, to look at him, to let him know that it was all right, let him know that he would be fine, tell him that they would walk the countryside like they used to once again, all three of them—

She slipped and fell onto the floor, wincing as pain bloomed in her hands and knees.

But she couldn't stop now, no, not when he was so close—

She lifted herself up onto all fours and crawled over to where he lay, facedown and unmoving.

Tears pouring down her face, she shakily turned him over and placed his head in her lap. She bent her head over his, placed her cheek next to his as she shook.

"I'm so sorry, Lyon," she gasped. "Please, forgive me…"

He stirred and opened his eyes.

"Eirika?" he asked, weakly. "Is that…you?"

Eirika lifted her head and met his gaze, vision blurry. She nodded and grasped his hand in both of her own.

"It's me," she said, hastily wiping her tears on the back of her hand. "I'm here."

He smiled slightly and said, "Looks like you've bested me again."

Despite her sorrow, Eirika managed a shaky laugh before the tears sprang anew.

"Yes," she sobbed, "I have, haven't I?"

He turned his head away and coughed. Eirika saw the blood flow forth from his lips.

"Eirika," he murmured, turning back to face her, "I'm so very sorry."

The tears continued to flow fast, dripping onto his face as Eirika shook her head. "Don't be, Lyon," she replied, squeezing his hand. "It wasn't your fault."

He shook his head. "No. It was. All of it. You lost your father because of me and my selfish desires." He coughed again and winced in pain.

"Shh," Eirika soothed, placing a gentle finger on his lips. "Don't speak. You'll be fine. I'll get Sister Natasha to heal you, and then we can—" Her voice broke, and she let out a sob.

It was hopeless.

"Eirika."

She looked down at him, down at the forlorn gaze he had fixed on her.

"Listen to me, Eirika," he said. She nodded, eyes glued to his as he spoke.

"When I was working with the energies of Grado's Sacred Stone, I heard the Demon King call out to me. He promised to grant all of my desires. And…I did not refuse him." Lifting his free hand, he wiped away Eirika's tears. "So, you see? It's all my fault. I did my best, Eirika. But in the end, there was no good I could do for you…or my people."

Smiling weakly, he said, "Eirika, did I ever tell you how much you meant to me? You were always so kind, so generous, so beautiful. Everything about you was radiant. I never had the courage to tell you this before, but… Eirika, I love you. I always have."

Her heart sank, and she began to weep. "No," she choked out, shaking her head. "No, Lyon, please…"

He gently cupped her cheek and smiled again. "To see such beauty marred by bitter tears seems like a sin. Don't cry, Eirika. Perhaps it's better this way…"

"No!" Eirika shouted desperately. "Don't say that! Lyon, fight! Don't give in!"

"I…"

"There's so much we haven't done yet…" she wept, shaking her head fiercely. "Please, don't leave me… Not now… Not when I was going to tell you I…" _I love you!_

She buried her face in his chest and cried, body shaking with the force of her sobs. Dear spirits, what had she done to merit this fate? What had _he _done?

"Eirika…" Lyon's voice was growing faint now, his breathing becoming labored. "Promise me…one last thing."

She lifted her tear-stained face to look at him. "…What is it?"

He brushed away a stray strand of her hair and stroked her face. "Promise me…that you'll keep fighting. When the Demon King is resurrected, promise me that you'll stop him." Lyon winced, feeling himself slip away as the last of his soul began to be devoured.

Eirika nodded, taking his hand into her own. "I will," she whispered tearfully. "I promise."

"Thank…you…" Lyon took one last breath, and then he was gone.

_No… He can't be… _"Lyon…?" Eirika dropped his hand and shook him by the shoulders. "Lyon! Answer me, Lyon!"

But he never did.

"No… No! _No! Dear spirits, __**no!**_"

Her cries of anguish echoed off the temple walls.

* * *

The sun had set, and night had fallen. Eirika sat by the fire, near the window. She had stopped crying, but decided that it was best that she should stay in her room for the rest of the day. She could speak to Ephraim tomorrow, in the morning.

Wearily, she looked around. Her gaze settled on the mirror.

Staring at her reflection, she concluded that she had seen better days. Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair was a mess, and her clothes were wrinkled. The hairpin she had taken out of her hair remained clasped tightly in her hand.

Sighing, she ran a hand through her loose hair. It had been a long while since she had cried like that. All of the emotions and thoughts she had bottled up inside had finally taken its toll on her.

She tore her eyes away from the mirror and looked outside. The rain had stopped falling and the moon was out, bathing everything in silver light. Pools of water gleamed eerily.

"Lyon… Why do you haunt me so?" she whispered. "I don't understand."

After today, Eirika felt chained, shackled, and bound—a slave to her emotions and thoughts. And she wanted nothing more than to break free. She wanted to move on, to be the happy, cheerful Eirika that was once was. She didn't want to be the sad, mourning Eirika who clung onto a past that brought her nothing but pain.

She was weary and tired of it all.

Standing up, she walked over to her boudoir and prepared herself for bed. She was exhausted from all of the crying and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep. The bath could wait until the morning; she had asked the servants to leave her be for the day. They had understood.

Pulling her hair back into a braid and putting on a nightgown, she drew back the covers of the bed and blew out the candle.

"May Saint Latona grant me a peaceful sleep tonight."

Latona, however, had other things in mind.

* * *

Eirika opened her eyes and found herself standing in the Grado gardens. Surprised, she looked around.

"It still looks the same," she said quietly, spotting the apple blossoms she loved so much. "But…why?"

_It is time for you to let go, Eirika. _

Startled, Eirika looked around. "Who…who said that?"

The voice spoke again, filling the air.

_Is it important? I have watched you, and it grieves me to see that a woman such as you continues to remain in such despair. _

"You…you've been watching me?"

_I have. It has pained me to see you like this, and now I feel it is time for me to intervene. _

"…Intervene?" Eirika asked, puzzled.

_Yes. You cannot let go of him, can you?_

Eirika's eyes widened. "You don't mean—"

_It is he who causes you such despair. You desire to see him one last time, don't you?_

Eirika swallowed hard, nodding. "Yes," she said, "I do. Whoever you may be… I am a woman of many regrets. I have killed many good people in the name of saving our continent. Their deaths will forever remain on my conscience. But above all, there is one regret that burdens me the most: that I was unable to tell the man I loved how I felt until it was too late. If only I had—" Eirika broke off, unable to continue.

_Very well. I will grant you your wish. _

She looked up. "You…would do that?"

The omnipresent voice laughed kindly before speaking once again.

_As I said before, it is time for you to let go. And if this is the way that it must be done, so be it. _

Tears began to fill Eirika's eyes. "Thank you. I do not know who you are, but I thank you."

_There is no need for thanks. I only wish that you be happy. _

"I… I will. I promise you."

_I will hold you to that. Remember, Eirika: do not lose sight of what is ahead of you._

The voice was gone, leaving Eirika standing alone in the gardens once again.

She closed her eyes and exhaled. "Be happy…"

"Eirika."

Her eyes shot open and she stifled a gasp. Was it really…? She turned around, hardly daring to believe it.

And lo and behold, there stood the prince of Grado amidst the apple blossom trees. He looked no different than when she had first seen him all those years ago.

He smiled. "It's been a long time, Eirika."

"Lyon! Is it really you?" Hesitantly, she took a step toward him. "Are you…real? Or am I dreaming?" she asked, looking up at him.

"This place… It sits strangely, between dreaming and waking," he replied, a distant yet thoughtful look on his face. He looked down at her. "But I'm real enough. See?" He took her hand in his, entwining their fingers. Eirika felt the contact.

"It _is_ you! You're really here…" She laughed, unable to stop the tears of joy that were now flowing down her face.

He smiled and said, "And so are you. You've grown even more beautiful since I last saw you."

She blushed at the comment and looked away. "And you… You haven't changed a bit, Lyon."

He laughed.

"Still…" She looked up at him and smiled, wiping away her tears. "Thank you."

Now it was Lyon's turn to blush. "Well, I…" Embarrassed, he turned away.

Eirika fought the urge to laugh. She had never seen Lyon so flustered before.

"This place hasn't changed since I last saw it. It's still the same peaceful place that it's always been," she commented, taking his hand and walking down the pathway. "The clouds, the grass, the air… Strange… It's as if I'm truly here."

"Yes. It still is," Lyon replied, following her. "It seems like so long ago…"

She realized what he was talking about and asked softly, "You mean when we first met, don't you?" Eirika let go of his hand.

He nodded sadly. "I still remember it, clear as day. You, Ephraim, and I… We had a lot of great times together."

Eirika felt a fond smile forming on her face. "We did, didn't we?" She laughed. "I remember when my brother gave me a scolding for being late that one time—don't you remember?"

Lyon let a grin cross his face. "I remember. We had all gone to the sacred shrine the day before to pay homage to the temple flame. Afterwards, Ephraim suggested that we go and do something in town the next day, since Father MacGregor granted us a small break from our studies. We all agreed that we should, before retiring to our respective bedchambers for the night."

"However," Eirika interjected, "I was up late that night thinking about my prayer to the temple flame. And I'm afraid that I overslept and made you and Ephraim wait nearly an hour for me, didn't I?"

"I certainly had no problem with waiting. It was Ephraim that kept grumbling about oversleeping sisters, if I do recall properly." A pensive look crossed his face.

"Oh? Is that so? I'm not surprised," Eirika laughed. "You were always the gentleman, Lyon, quite unlike him. I remember saying that. It didn't bode well with him."

"No, it didn't," Lyon agreed. "Then we shared what we prayed for, and Ephraim said that he prayed that he would be a good ruler. You… I don't remember what you prayed for, Eirika."

Eirika laughed. "That would be because I didn't say what I prayed for, remember? I said that it was a secret."

"A secret? Yes, that's right, isn't it? Well, as for me, I prayed for…" Lyon stopped for a moment before continuing, "…I prayed that I would be as good an emperor as my father. But it seems that that prayer went unanswered…" He closed his eyes and turned away from her, sighing heavily.

Eirika walked up to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her.

She smiled. "Lyon… Don't blame yourself. Please. None of this was your fault."

Lyon began to protest. "But, Eirika, I—"

Eirika pressed a finger to his lips to silence him and shook her head. "No. Everyone makes mistakes. The choice you made… I know that you didn't mean to do any harm."

"Eirika…"

"Please," she said, "listen to me."

Lyon was silent, and Eirika began to speak.

"Shortly after I met you in Jehanna Hall, where Queen Ismaire was killed, the hall was set on fire and I was forced to escape out into the desert. Caellach, the Tiger Eye, and Valter, the Moonstone, were waiting there for me. Two days later, as we ran short on supplies and were on the brink of losing the battle, Ephraim appeared and came to my aid. With him were two men—Sir Duessel and Master Knoll. Together we defeated Valter and Caellach, and then began to make our way north towards the Rausten Court. As Ephraim and I made our way towards the Narube River, I had the chance of speaking with Master Knoll.

"He told me about everything that had happened. About how, a year ago, your father finally died from his illness and how you devastated you were by the loss. He told me about how you felt neither ready nor prepared to claim the throne and establish yourself as Grado's new emperor. And he told me that during your experiments with the energies surrounding Fire Emblem, you had foreseen a terrible fate that would soon befall your people.

"I asked Master Knoll what you did then. He told me that you pledged yourself to find a way to resurrect your dead father and save your people. You dedicated yourself to your studies—going days without eating and forsaking sleep. And then you finally came up with a solution. You planned to harness the magical energies of the Fire Emblem itself, and gathered together a team of alchemists who, together with you, managed to successfully extract something that you called the Dark Stone from the Sacred Stone itself. With that Dark Stone, you gave your father new life. However, the stone slowly began to corrupt you—mind, body, and soul…and you began to change. When I heard of how you were the one who ordered the attack on Renais, I refused to believe it. How could I? But then came the confrontation at Narube River, and shortly afterwards, Neleras Peak… I was at a loss. I did not know what to do. And then…came Darkling Woods and…the Black Temple, where Ephraim and I…" Eirika's voice cracked and she stopped for a moment, a dry sob escaping her lips as the horrible memory resurfaced.

"Eirika…" Lyon pulled her into an embrace and she buried her face into his chest.

"I never believed it, Lyon, I never did… When Master Knoll told me of how he remembered the joy in your eyes when you spoke of how you could use the newfound power you and the alchemists had extracted from the Sacred Stone to help Grado and her people, I realized that you would have never willingly hurt anyone. That's why… That's why it hurt so badly when I lost you. Because I never…"

"Never what?"

"I've always regretted that I've never…told you how I felt."

She heard Lyon's breath catch in his throat. Breaking the embrace and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she took his hands into her own. Letting a shy smile creep onto her face, Eirika looked up at him and said, "Lyon, I… I love you."

His eyes widened and he was silent for a minute before he spoke again.

"Eirika," he said weakly, "I… You…" He paused, unsure of what to say.

She laughed and threw her arms around his neck. "You don't have to say anything at all," she said, resting her head against his shoulder. "I only wanted to let you know that."

He buried his face in her hair. "Thank you," he whispered.

She turned her face then, and gently kissed him on the cheek. When she drew back, Lyon was looking at her. Eirika looked back at him and waited expectantly, like she had all those years ago.

This time, Lyon did not shy away. There was only a moment's hesitation before he leaned in and kissed her softly, cupping her face in his hands.

Twining her fingers in his hair and arching against him, Eirika returned the kiss with everything she had, lips pressing insistently against his, coaxing him, daring him to respond to her.

Surprised at her response, Lyon broke the kiss, an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at her. Eyes closed, she drew his face towards hers and rested her forehead against his.

"I love you," she said simply.

He kissed her then—threw himself into it, kissing her fiercely as his hands encircled her waist and drew her towards him. She responded in kind, linking her arms around his neck and tilting her head as she pressed herself against him.

Lyon shook as he kissed Eirika, unable to stop himself yet not caring. She was here; she was his; and that was all that mattered.

This time, it was Eirika who broke the kiss. She took a step backward, extending a hand towards him as she did so.

Lyon hesitated for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand before looking up at her. She smiled back at him, beckoning.

"Come," she said.

He took her hand, and the two walked deeper into the gardens.

* * *

The sun was streaming brightly through her bedroom window when Eirika awoke. Yawning, she sat up and stretched, pausing momentarily upon feeling a slight soreness in her muscles.

She smiled inwardly. Well, that was to be expected. All of that weeping couldn't have done her any good…

Throwing the sheets off of her, Eirika stood up from her bed. There was a slight knocking at the door.

"Come in!" she said, and the door opened. A young woman in a simple dress and apron entered and bowed.

"Good morning, Lady Eirika," the woman greeted, falling into a curtsey. "I'm here to prepare your bath. Bernadine said that you would like one prepared this morning after you awoke?"

"Yes, that is correct," Eirika said, smiling. "Thank you, Margaret. You're very kind to do so."

"'Tis my pleasure, milady. It will be prepared shortly. Would you also like breakfast to be brought to your chambers?"

"If you could, please."

"Of course. I will see to it now." Margaret excused herself with a bow and left the room.

Eirika turned to face the window, peering at the grounds outside the castle. Drops of water from the rain still clung to the bare trees, sparkling in the sunlight. She pressed her hand to the windowpane, gauging the cold.

There was another knock on the door.

"Eirika?" came Ephraim's voice, muffled.

"Come in, Brother," Eirika called out.

His head appeared around the door, followed by the rest of him. "Good morning, Sister," he greeted.

"Hello, Ephraim," she replied. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. I was actually hoping to ask how you were faring." He hesitated for a moment before saying, "General Seth confided in me that you seemed out of sorts yesterday, and you never came to join me as you said you would."

Eirika nodded. "I must be honest with you, Ephraim," she said. "I was. These days have been difficult as of late. Thoughts of Lyon have preoccupied me." This time, there was no despair in her voice; she felt no sadness or anger within her. Instead, she smiled, remembering the night before.

Ephraim looked at her, puzzled by her expression. "I understand," he said slowly. "There are times when I think about what happened, but…"

"But what?"

He paused, gathering his words. After a moment, he said, "Tell me, Sister. This may pain you, but tell me. If Lyon were here with us, right now, what do you think he would want?"

"That's simple," she said. "Lyon loved Grado and her people more than anything else. He would want nothing but the best for them. A world without war, a world where we could all live in peace and joy. That was his vision. That is what he would want." Despite the fact that she no longer felt the deep ache of sorrow in her chest, Eirika could not stop the heavy feeling that rose in her throat as she spoke of his vision, remembered the joy in his eyes all those years ago.

Ephraim stepped forward, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. "Do you remember now?" he asked. "Remember how we had this same conversation in the throne room a year ago, upon returning to Renais?"

Eirika nodded. "Yes. I do. And we vowed to take his vision, and make it our own. In my own sorrow, I had nearly forgotten… How foolish of me." She dropped her gaze, shaking her head and letting a rueful laugh escape her lips.

"You…loved him, didn't you, Sister?" He dropped his hands to his sides.

She clasped her hands and nodded. "Yes," she said, looking up at him, "I did. But it was too late for us."

Ephraim hugged his sister then. "I'm sorry," he said. It was all he could say.

"It hurts," she said, burying her face into his shoulder. "But I've realized that while he may not be present, and while we never may be together, I can still honor him. It's like you said, Brother. We can take his vision, and make it our own. Lyon would not want me to dwell on a past that brings nothing but pain. He would want me to move on. And I think… I think I can do that now." She broke the embrace and smiled up at him.

He smiled back. "Good. I was getting tired of seeing you moping around all the time," he joked.

Eirika hit her brother on the arm. "Ephraim!" she admonished. "That wasn't funny!"

He laughed. "Glad to see you're already feeling better."

"Y-you!" Eirika lifted her hand, ready to strike him again, but stopped, sighed, and shook her head. "I will never understand you," she said, planting her hands on her hips.

"Neither will I," he said jovially, ducking as she swung for his head.

"Get out," Eirika said, pushing him towards the door. "Margaret will be coming soon with hot water for my bath, and I do not want you here."

"Agreed," Ephraim replied, moving towards the door. "I'll be seeing you later in the Great Hall, then?"

Eirika nodded. "Yes. Now, Brother: kindly _leave_."

As the door closed behind him, Eirika turned to face the window again, staring at the finches that had perched themselves on the tree branch outside. She smiled, a bittersweet feeling rising in her chest as she did so. Maybe one day she would see him once again, but until then, she had a vow to keep; one that she would not lose sight of ever again.

"You once pledged yourself to help Grado and her people," she said aloud, "and I will do the same. I will answer their call, and I will not let them down. This is my promise to you."

She placed her hand against the windowpane and pushed. The window creaked open, the frigid morning air striking her face. She raised her gaze to the sky.

"Thank you, Lyon…for everything. May we meet once again, under the grace of our forefathers. Until then, farewell."

And closing her eyes, Eirika lifted her face to the sunlight and let it wash over her.

* * *

**06.10.2010: **Now with a new and improved formula! Some of y'all may have noticed; some of you may have not. I must say that I'm actually fairly happy with it now, which is surprising. There's a few parts here and there that probably need some more work, but I can do that when I decide that I want to revamp it. Again. Oh, well.

And while I'm not a review whore (i.e., I won't die if you don't leave a review), concrit is my lifeblood. So if you find yourself with a couple of minutes, I'd really appreciate if you could leave a little ditty on what worked well/what didn't/what needs work, et cetera. You get the idea.

Thanks a bunch! And have a _lovely_ day. :)


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